was there, the engine was still warm, but there was no sign of Ben.
Diane and her parents went to the home of Ben's parents, who sadly confirmed that their son was really dead. But when they heard Diane's story, they too were shocked and more than a little frightened. The only thing to do was to open the grave, which they did the very next morning. Ben's body was in the coffin, just as it should have been. But wrapped around the corpse's neck was Diane's long woolen muffler.
Fears of being buried alive were common during the last century, and for some people the fear was almost an obsession. This fear gave rise to a large number of legends and stories. Some of Edgar Allan Poe's best tales, for example, are about being buried alive. Fear also inspired inventors to patent many devices to protect people from this horrible fate. Coffins equipped with bells, flags, periscopes, air holes, and other devices designed to save the unlucky from the ghastly prospect of premature burial were manufactured and sold. There is, to my knowledge, not a single case in which any of these devices ever saved anyone's life. While it was certainly possible to be buried alive, particulary during an epidemic when doctors were overworked and there was a great rush to get the dead buried as quickly as possible, it was something that probably didn't happen very often.
Today the possibility of being buried alive is virtually zero, but the legends continue, though they do not form as large a segment of our frightening folklore as they did a century or so ago.
The Second Blue Book
Many colleges still use special blue-covered exam booklets. They are called, appropriately enough, blue books, and are filled with lined paper. These books are handed out at the beginning of an exam, and the students must write their answers to essay questions in these special books. The books are supposed to ensure that the students don't come in with pre-prepared answers.
Steve was a student at Upstate University. He was very bright and could have had straight As, except for one small problem that he had. Steve hated to work. He loved to party, and he figured he was smart enough to bluff his way through exams. Sometimes he was right, sometimes he wasn't. He was right often enough to be able to stay in school—but wrong often enough that he was just barely hanging in there.
As final exams approached, Steve found that this semester he was losing more often than he was winning. He faced the very real possibility that his semester average would be so low that he would actually flunk out of school. Which would mean that he would have to go home and might actually have to get a Job . The thought sickened him.
Steve had only one final left, American Lit. He didn't know a great deal about American literature, but almost by accident he had read a couple of the books that had been assigned. So he was confident that he would be able to bluff his way through the final, and that this grade would be high enough to give him a passing average.
Steve was calm and assured as he entered the classroom to take the exam. He remained calm and assured as the professor handed each student two blue books. His calm began to shatter as the professor wrote two questions on the board. They were the only two questions on the exam.
The second question was about something that Steve had read, and instantly a brilliant series of connections were made in his mind. His answer to question two would give him an A on that part of the exam.
Question one was another matter. It was about something that he had never read, never even heard of. He drew a complete blank. There was nothing he could say about question one.
The result would be an exam score of fifty, not good enough for a passing grade in the course and certainly not good enough to carry the rest of his marginal marks. The horrible specter of a job rose before him. But he took a few breaths and did not panic. Steve had a plan.
He started
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